as she began to cry.We stared at each other,blood on my face,tears on hers.It was as if I saw myself.Like in a looking-glass. 米米米米米米 'I saw my plait,tied with red ribbon,when I got up,'I said.'In the chest of drawers.I thought it was a snake.' Your hair had to be cut.You've been very ill,my darling,'said Aunt Cora.But you are safe with me now.We are all safe as I told you we would be.You must stay in bed though.Why are you wandering about the room?Your hair will grow again,'she said.Longer and thicker.' But darker,'I said. Why not darker?' She picked me up and I was glad to feel the soft mattress and glad to be covered with a cool sheet. 'It's time for your arrowroot,'she said and went out.When that was finished she took the cup away and stood looking down at me. 'I got up because I wanted to know where I was.' 'And you do know,don't you?'she said in an anxious voice. Of course.But how did I get to your house?' 'The Luttrells were very good.As soon as Mannie got to Nelson's Rest they sent a hammock and four men.You were shaken about a good deal though.But they did their best. Young Luttrell rode alongside you all the way.Wasn't that kind?' 'Yes,'I said.She looked thin and old and her hair wasn't arranged prettily so I shut my eyes,not wanting to see her. Pierre is dead,isn't he?' He died on the way down,the poor little boy,'she said. 'He died before that,'I thought but was too tired to speak. You mother is in the country.Resting.Getting well again.You will see her quite soon.' 'I didn't know,'I said.Why did she go away?' "You've been very ill for nearly six weeks.You didn't know anything.' What was the use of telling her that I'd been awake before and heard my mother screaming Oui est la?Oui est la?',then Don't touch me.I'll kill you if you touch me.Coward.Hypocrite. 第16页共88页
as she began to cry. We stared at each other, blood on my face, tears on hers. It was as if I saw myself. Like in a looking-glass. ****** ‘I saw my plait, tied with red ribbon, when I got up,’ I said. ‘In the chest of drawers. I thought it was a snake.’ ‘Your hair had to be cut. You’ve been very ill, my darling,’ said Aunt Cora. ‘But you are safe with me now. We are all safe as I told you we would be. You must stay in bed though. Why are you wandering about the room? Your hair will grow again,’ she said. ‘Longer and thicker.’ ‘But darker,’ I said. ‘Why not darker?’ She picked me up and I was glad to feel the soft mattress and glad to be covered with a cool sheet. ‘It’s time for your arrowroot,’ she said and went out. When that was finished she took the cup away and stood looking down at me. ‘I got up because I wanted to know where I was.’ ‘And you do know, don’t you?’ she said in an anxious voice. ‘Of course. But how did I get to your house?’ ‘The Luttrells were very good. As soon as Mannie got to Nelson’s Rest they sent a hammock and four men. You were shaken about a good deal though. But they did their best. Young Luttrell rode alongside you all the way. Wasn’t that kind?’ ‘Yes,’ I said. She looked thin and old and her hair wasn’t arranged prettily so I shut my eyes, not wanting to see her. ‘Pierre is dead, isn’t he?’ ‘He died on the way down, the poor little boy,’ she said. ‘He died before that,’ I thought but was too tired to speak. ‘You mother is in the country. Resting. Getting well again. You will see her quite soon.’ ‘I didn’t know,’ I said. ‘Why did she go away?’ ‘You’ve been very ill for nearly six weeks. You didn’t know anything.’ What was the use of telling her that I’d been awake before and heard my mother screaming ‘Qui est là? Qui est là?’, then ‘Don’t touch me. I’ll kill you if you touch me. Coward. Hypocrite. 第16 页共88页
I'll kill you.'I'd put my hands over my ears,her screams were so loud and terrible.I slept and when I woke up everything was quiet. Still Aunt Cora stayed by my bed looking at me 'My head is bandaged up.It's so hot,'I said.'Will I have a mark on my forehead?' 'No,no.'She smiled for the first time.That is healing very nicely.It won't spoil you on your wedding day,'she said. She bent down and kissed me.'Is there anything you want?A cool drink to sip?' No,not a drink.Sing to me.I like that.' She began in a shaky voice. 'Every night at half past eight Comes taptap tapping-' Not that one.I don't like that one.Sing Before I was set free.' She sat near me and sang very softly,Before I was set free.'I heard as far as 'The sorrow that my heart feels for-'I didn't hear the end but I heard that before I slept,The sorrow that my heart feels for.' I was going to see my mother.I had insisted that Christophine must be with me,no one else,and as I was not yet quite well they had given way.I remember the dull feeling as we drove along for I did not expect to see her.She was part of Coulibri,that had gone,so she had gone,I was certain of it.But when we reached the tidy pretty little house where she lived now(they said)I jumped out of the carriage and ran as fast as I could across the lawn.One door was open on the veranda.I went in without knocking and stared at the people in the room.A coloured man,a coloured woman,and a white woman sitting with her head bent so low that I couldn't see her face.But I recognized her hair,one plait much shorter than the other.And her dress.I put my arms round her and kissed her. She held me so tightly that I couldn't breathe and I thought,'It's not her.'Then 'It must be her.' She looked at the door,then at me,then at the door again.I could not say,'He is dead,'so I shook my head.But I am here,I am here,'I said,and she said,'No,'quietly.Then 'No no no'very loudly and flung me from her.I fell against the partition and hurt myself.The man and the woman were holding her arms and Christophine was there.The woman said,Why you bring the child to make trouble,trouble,trouble?Trouble enough without that. All the way back to Aunt Cora's house we didn't speak. The first day I had to go to the convent,I clung to Aunt Cora as you would cling to life if you loved it.At last she got impatient,so I forced myself away from her and through he passage,down the steps into the street and,as I knew they would be,they were waiting for me under the sandbox tree.There were two of them,a boy and a girl.The boy was about fourteen and tall and big for his 第17页共88页
I’ll kill you.’ I’d put my hands over my ears, her screams were so loud and terrible. I slept and when I woke up everything was quiet. Still Aunt Cora stayed by my bed looking at me. ‘My head is bandaged up. It’s so hot,’ I said. ‘Will I have a mark on my forehead?’ ‘No, no.’ She smiled for the first time. That is healing very nicely. It won’t spoil you on your wedding day,’ she said. She bent down and kissed me. ‘Is there anything you want? A cool drink to sip?’ ‘No, not a drink. Sing to me. I like that.’ She began in a shaky voice. ‘Every night at half past eight Comes tap tap tapping –’ ‘Not that one. I don’t like that one. Sing Before I was set free.’ She sat near me and sang very softly, ‘Before I was set free.’ I heard as far as ‘The sorrow that my heart feels for –’ I didn’t hear the end but I heard that before I slept, ‘The sorrow that my heart feels for.’ I was going to see my mother. I had insisted that Christophine must be with me, no one else, and as I was not yet quite well they had given way. I remember the dull feeling as we drove along for I did not expect to see her. She was part of Coulibri, that had gone, so she had gone, I was certain of it. But when we reached the tidy pretty little house where she lived now (they said) I jumped out of the carriage and ran as fast as I could across the lawn. One door was open on the veranda. I went in without knocking and stared at the people in the room. A coloured man, a coloured woman, and a white woman sitting with her head bent so low that I couldn’t see her face. But I recognized her hair, one plait much shorter than the other. And her dress. I put my arms round her and kissed her. She held me so tightly that I couldn’t breathe and I thought, ‘It’s not her.’ Then ‘It must be her.’ She looked at the door, then at me, then at the door again. I could not say, ‘He is dead,’ so I shook my head. ‘But I am here, I am here,’ I said, and she said, ‘No,’ quietly. Then ‘No no no’ very loudly and flung me from her. I fell against the partition and hurt myself. The man and the woman were holding her arms and Christophine was there. The woman said, ‘Why you bring the child to make trouble, trouble, trouble? Trouble enough without that.’ All the way back to Aunt Cora’s house we didn’t speak. The first day I had to go to the convent, I clung to Aunt Cora as you would cling to life if you loved it. At last she got impatient, so I forced myself away from her and through he passage, down the steps into the street and, as I knew they would be, they were waiting for me under the sandbox tree. There were two of them, a boy and a girl. The boy was about fourteen and tall and big for his 第17 页共88页
age,he had a white skin,a dull ugly white covered with freckles,his mouth was a negro's mouth and he had small eyes,like bits of green glass.He had the eyes of a dead fish.Worst most horrible of all,his hair was crinkled,a negro's hair,but bright red,and his eyebrows and eyelashes were red.The girl was very black and wore no head handkerchief.Her hair had been plaited and I could smell the sickening oil she had daubed on it,from where I stood on the steps of Aunt Cora's dark, clean,friendly house,staring at them.They looked so harmless and quiet,no one would have noticed the glint in the boy's eyes. Then the girl grinned and began to crack the knuckles of her fingers.At each crack I jumped and my hands began to sweat.I was holding some school books in my right hand and shifted them to under my arm,but it was too late,there was a mark on the palm of my hand and a stain on the cover of the book.The girl began to laugh,very quietly,and it was then that hate came to me and courage with the hate so that I was able to walk past without looking at them. I knew they were following,I knew too that as log as I was in sight of Aunt Cora's house they would do nothing but stroll along some distance after me.But I knew when they would draw close.It would be when I was going up the hill.There were walls and gardens on each side of the hill and no one would be there at this hour of the morning. Half-way up they closed in on me and started talking.The girl said,Look the crazy girl, you crazy like your mother.Your aunt frightened to have you in the house.She send you for the nuns to lock up.Your mother walk about with no shoes and stockings on her feet,she sans culottes.She try to kill her husband and she try to kill you too that day you go to see her.She have eyes like zombie and you have eyes like zombie too.Why you won't look at me.'The boy only said,One day I catch you alone,you wait,one day I catch you alone.'When I got to the top of the hill they were jostling me,I could smell the girl's hair. A long empty street stretched away to the convent,the convent wall and a wooden gate.I would have to ring before I could get in.The girl said,'You don't want to look at me,eh,I make you look at me.'She pushed me and the books I was carrying fell to the ground. I stoop to pick them up and saw that a tall boy that was walking along the other side of the street had stopped and looked toward us.Then he crossed over,running.He had long legs,his feet hardly touch the ground.As soon as they saw him,they turned and walked away.He looked after them,puzzled.I would have died sooner than run when they were there,but as soon as they had gone,I ran.I left one of my books on the ground and the tall boy came after me. 'You dropped this,'he said,and smiled.I knew who he was,his name was Sandi, Alexander Cosway's son.Once I would have said 'my cousin Sandi'but Mr Mason's lectures had made me shy about my coloured relatives.I muttered,Thank you.' I'll talk to that boy,'he said.He won't bother you again. In the distance I could see my enemy's red hair as he pelted along,but he hadn't a chance. Sandi caught him up before he reached the corner.The girl had disappeared.I didn't wait to see what happened but I pulled and pulled at the bell. 第18页共88页
age, he had a white skin, a dull ugly white covered with freckles, his mouth was a negro’s mouth and he had small eyes, like bits of green glass. He had the eyes of a dead fish. Worst most horrible of all, his hair was crinkled, a negro’s hair, but bright red, and his eyebrows and eyelashes were red. The girl was very black and wore no head handkerchief. Her hair had been plaited and I could smell the sickening oil she had daubed on it, from where I stood on the steps of Aunt Cora’s dark, clean, friendly house, staring at them. They looked so harmless and quiet, no one would have noticed the glint in the boy’s eyes. Then the girl grinned and began to crack the knuckles of her fingers. At each crack I jumped and my hands began to sweat. I was holding some school books in my right hand and shifted them to under my arm, but it was too late, there was a mark on the palm of my hand and a stain on the cover of the book. The girl began to laugh, very quietly, and it was then that hate came to me and courage with the hate so that I was able to walk past without looking at them. I knew they were following, I knew too that as log as I was in sight of Aunt Cora’s house they would do nothing but stroll along some distance after me. But I knew when they would draw close. It would be when I was going up the hill. There were walls and gardens on each side of the hill and no one would be there at this hour of the morning. Half-way up they closed in on me and started talking. The girl said, ‘Look the crazy girl, you crazy like your mother. Your aunt frightened to have you in the house. She send you for the nuns to lock up. Your mother walk about with no shoes and stockings on her feet, she sans culottes. She try to kill her husband and she try to kill you too that day you go to see her. She have eyes like zombie and you have eyes like zombie too. Why you won’t look at me.’ The boy only said, ‘One day I catch you alone, you wait, one day I catch you alone.’ When I got to the top of the hill they were jostling me, I could smell the girl’s hair. A long empty street stretched away to the convent, the convent wall and a wooden gate. I would have to ring before I could get in. The girl said, ‘You don’t want to look at me, eh, I make you look at me.’ She pushed me and the books I was carrying fell to the ground. I stoop to pick them up and saw that a tall boy that was walking along the other side of the street had stopped and looked toward us. Then he crossed over, running. He had long legs, his feet hardly touch the ground. As soon as they saw him, they turned and walked away. He looked after them, puzzled. I would have died sooner than run when they were there, but as soon as they had gone, I ran. I left one of my books on the ground and the tall boy came after me. ‘You dropped this,’ he said, and smiled. I knew who he was, his name was Sandi, Alexander Cosway’s son. Once I would have said ‘my cousin Sandi’ but Mr Mason’s lectures had made me shy about my coloured relatives. I muttered, ‘Thank you.’ ‘I’ll talk to that boy,’ he said. ‘He won’t bother you again.’ In the distance I could see my enemy’s red hair as he pelted along, but he hadn’t a chance. Sandi caught him up before he reached the corner. The girl had disappeared. I didn’t wait to see what happened but I pulled and pulled at the bell. 第18 页共88页
At last the door opened.The nun was a coloured woman and she seemed displeased.'You must not ring the bell like that,'she said.'I come as quick as I can.'Then I heard the door shut behind me. I collapsed ad began to cry.She asked me if I was sick,but I could not answer.She took my hand,still clicking her tongue and muttering in an ill-tempered was,and led me across the yard,past the shadow of the big tree,not into the front door but into a big,cool,stone-flagged room.There were pots and pans hanging on the wall and a stone fireplace.There was another nun at the back of the room and when the bell rang again,the first one went to answer it.The second nun,also a coloured woman,brought a basin and water but as fast as she sponged my face,so fast did I cry.When she saw my hand she asked if I had fallen and hurt myself.I shook my head and she sponged the stain away gently.What is the matter,what are you crying about?What has happened to you?'And still I could not answer.She brought me a glass of milk,I tried to drink it, but I choked.'Oh lala,'she said,shrugging her shoulders and went out. When she came in again,a third nun was with her who said in a calm voice,You have cried quite enough now,you must stop.Have you got a handkerchief?' I remembered that I had dropped it.The new nun wiped my eyes with a large handkerchief, gave it to me and asked my name. ‘Antoinette,'I said. Of course,'she said.'I know.You are Antoinette Cosway,that is to say Antoinette Mason.Has someone frightened you?' Yes.' Now look at me,'she said.'You will not be frightened of me.' I looked at her.She had large brown eyes,very soft,and was dressed in white,not with a starched apron like the others had.The band round her face was of linen and above the white linen a black veil of some thin material,which fell on folds down her back.He cheeks were red,she had a laughing face and two deep dimples.Her hands were small but they looked clumsy and swollen, not like the rest of her.It was only afterwards that I found out that they were crippled with rheumatism.She took me into a parlour furnished stiffly with straight-backed chairs and a polished table in the middle.After she had talked to me I told her a little of why I was crying and that I did not like walking to school alone. "That must be seen to.'she said.I will write to your aunt.Now Mother St Justine will be waiting for you.I have sent for a girl who has been with us for nearly a year.Her name is Louise- Louise de Plana.If you feel strange,she will explain everything.' Louise and I walked along a paved path to the classroom.There was grass on each side of the path and trees and shadows of trees and sometimes a bright bush of flowers.She was very pretty and when she smiled at me I could scarcely believe I had ever been miserable.She said,We always call Mother St Justine,Mother Juice of a Lime.She is not very intelligent,poor woman. You will see. 第19页共88页
At last the door opened. The nun was a coloured woman and she seemed displeased. ‘You must not ring the bell like that,’ she said. ‘I come as quick as I can.’ Then I heard the door shut behind me. I collapsed ad began to cry. She asked me if I was sick, but I could not answer. She took my hand, still clicking her tongue and muttering in an ill-tempered was, and led me across the yard, past the shadow of the big tree, not into the front door but into a big, cool, stone-flagged room. There were pots and pans hanging on the wall and a stone fireplace. There was another nun at the back of the room and when the bell rang again, the first one went to answer it. The second nun, also a coloured woman, brought a basin and water but as fast as she sponged my face, so fast did I cry. When she saw my hand she asked if I had fallen and hurt myself. I shook my head and she sponged the stain away gently. ‘What is the matter, what are you crying about? What has happened to you?’ And still I could not answer. She brought me a glass of milk, I tried to drink it, but I choked. ‘Oh la la,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders and went out. When she came in again, a third nun was with her who said in a calm voice, ‘You have cried quite enough now, you must stop. Have you got a handkerchief?’ I remembered that I had dropped it. The new nun wiped my eyes with a large handkerchief, gave it to me and asked my name. ‘Antoinette,’ I said. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I know. You are Antoinette Cosway, that is to say Antoinette Mason. Has someone frightened you?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Now look at me,’ she said. ‘You will not be frightened of me.’ I looked at her. She had large brown eyes, very soft, and was dressed in white, not with a starched apron like the others had. The band round her face was of linen and above the white linen a black veil of some thin material, which fell on folds down her back. He cheeks were red, she had a laughing face and two deep dimples. Her hands were small but they looked clumsy and swollen, not like the rest of her. It was only afterwards that I found out that they were crippled with rheumatism. She took me into a parlour furnished stiffly with straight-backed chairs and a polished table in the middle. After she had talked to me I told her a little of why I was crying and that I did not like walking to school alone. ‘That must be seen to,’ she said. ‘I will write to your aunt. Now Mother St Justine will be waiting for you. I have sent for a girl who has been with us for nearly a year. Her name is Louise – Louise de Plana. If you feel strange, she will explain everything.’ Louise and I walked along a paved path to the classroom. There was grass on each side of the path and trees and shadows of trees and sometimes a bright bush of flowers. She was very pretty and when she smiled at me I could scarcely believe I had ever been miserable. She said, ‘We always call Mother St Justine, Mother Juice of a Lime. She is not very intelligent, poor woman. You will see. 第19 页共88页
Quickly,while I can,I must remember to hot classroom.The hot classroom,the pitchpine desks the heat of the bench striking up through my body,along my arms and hands.But outside I could see cool,blue shadow on a white wall.My needle is sticky,and creaks as it goes in and out of the canvas.'My needle is swearing,'I whispered to Louise,who sits next to me.We are cross- stitching silk roses on a pale background.We can colour the roses as we choose and mine are green,blue and purple.Underneath,I will write my name in fire red,Antoinette Mason,nee Cosway,Mount Calvary Convent,Spanish Town,Jamaica,1839. As we work,Mother St Justine read us stories from the lives of the Saints,St Rose,St Barbara,St Agnes.But we have our own Saint,the skeleton of a girl of fourteen under the altar of the convent chapel.The Relics.But how did the nuns get them out here,I ask myself?In a cabin trunk?Specially packed for the hold?How?But here she is,and St Innocenzia is her name.We do not know her story,she is not in the book.The saints we hear about were all very beautiful and wealthy.All were loved by rich and handsome young me. ..more lovely and more richly dressed than he had ever seen her in life,'drones Mother St Justine.'She smiled and said,"Here Theophilus is a rose from the garden of my Spouse,in whom you did not believe."The rose he found by his side when he awoke has never faded.It still exists.'(Oh,but where?Where?)'And Theophilus was converted to Christianity,'says Mother St Justine,reading very rapidly now,'and became one of the Holy Martyrs.'She shuts the book with a clap and talks about pushing down the cuticles of our nails when we wash our hands. Cleanliness,good manners and kindness to God's poor.A flow of words.('It is her time of life,' said Helene de Plana,'she cannot help it,poor old Justine.')When you insult or injure the unfortunate or the unhappy,you insult Christ Himself and He will not forget,for they are His chosen ones.'This remark is made in a casual and perfunctory voice and she slides on to order and chastity,that flawless crystal that,once broken,can never be mended.Also deportment.Like everyone else,she has fallen under the spell of the de Plana sisters and holds them up as an example to the class.I admire them.They sit so poised and imperturbable while she points out the excellence of Miss Helene's coiffure,achieved without a looking-glass. Please,Helene,tell me how you do your hair,because when I grow up I want mine to look like yours.' 'It's very easy.You comb it upwards,like this and then push it a little forward,like that, and then you pin it here and here.Never too many pins.' Yes,but Helene,mine does not look like yours,whatever I do.' Her eyelashes flickered,she turned away,too polite to say the obvious thing.We have no looking-glass in the dormitory,once I saw the new young nun from Ireland looking at herself in a cask of water,smiling to see if her dimples were still there.When she noticed me,she blushed and I thought,now she will always dislike me. Sometimes it was Miss Helene hair and sometimes Miss Germaine's impeccable deportment,and sometimes it was the care Miss Louise took of her beautiful teeth.And if we were never envious,they never seemed vain.Helene and Germaine,a little disdainful,aloof perhaps,but Louise,not even that.She took no part in it-as if she knew that she was born for other things. Helene's brown eyes could snap,Germaine's grey eyes were beautiful,soft and cow-like,she 第20页共88页
Quickly, while I can, I must remember to hot classroom. The hot classroom, the pitchpine desks, the heat of the bench striking up through my body, along my arms and hands. But outside I could see cool, blue shadow on a white wall. My needle is sticky, and creaks as it goes in and out of the canvas. ‘My needle is swearing,’ I whispered to Louise, who sits next to me. We are crossstitching silk roses on a pale background. We can colour the roses as we choose and mine are green, blue and purple. Underneath, I will write my name in fire red, Antoinette Mason, née Cosway, Mount Calvary Convent, Spanish Town , Jamaica, 1839. As we work, Mother St Justine read us stories from the lives of the Saints, St Rose, St Barbara, St Agnes. But we have our own Saint, the skeleton of a girl of fourteen under the altar of the convent chapel. The Relics. But how did the nuns get them out here, I ask myself? In a cabin trunk? Specially packed for the hold? How? But here she is, and St Innocenzia is her name. We do not know her story, she is not in the book. The saints we hear about were all very beautiful and wealthy. All were loved by rich and handsome young me. ‘… more lovely and more richly dressed than he had ever seen her in life,’ drones Mother St Justine. ‘She smiled and said, “Here Theophilus is a rose from the garden of my Spouse, in whom you did not believe.” The rose he found by his side when he awoke has never faded. It still exists.’ (Oh, but where? Where?) ‘And Theophilus was converted to Christianity,’ says Mother St Justine, reading very rapidly now, ‘and became one of the Holy Martyrs.’ She shuts the book with a clap and talks about pushing down the cuticles of our nails when we wash our hands. Cleanliness, good manners and kindness to God’s poor. A flow of words. (‘It is her time of life,’ said Hélène de Plana, ‘she cannot help it, poor old Justine.’) ‘When you insult or injure the unfortunate or the unhappy, you insult Christ Himself and He will not forget, for they are His chosen ones.’ This remark is made in a casual and perfunctory voice and she slides on to order and chastity, that flawless crystal that, once broken, can never be mended. Also deportment. Like everyone else, she has fallen under the spell of the de Plana sisters and holds them up as an example to the class. I admire them. They sit so poised and imperturbable while she points out the excellence of Miss Hélène’s coiffure, achieved without a looking-glass. ‘Please, Hélène, tell me how you do your hair, because when I grow up I want mine to look like yours.’ ‘It’s very easy. You comb it upwards, like this and then push it a little forward, like that, and then you pin it here and here. Never too many pins.’ ‘Yes, but Hélène, mine does not look like yours, whatever I do.’ Her eyelashes flickered, she turned away, too polite to say the obvious thing. We have no looking-glass in the dormitory, once I saw the new young nun from Ireland looking at herself in a cask of water, smiling to see if her dimples were still there. When she noticed me, she blushed and I thought, now she will always dislike me. Sometimes it was Miss Hélène hair and sometimes Miss Germaine’s impeccable deportment, and sometimes it was the care Miss Louise took of her beautiful teeth. And if we were never envious, they never seemed vain. Hélène and Germaine, a little disdainful, aloof perhaps, but Louise, not even that. She took no part in it – as if she knew that she was born for other things. Hélène’s brown eyes could snap, Germaine’s grey eyes were beautiful, soft and cow-like, she 第20 页共88页